Shadows Under Stone
by PadlockPen
Summary: After fleeing from her ex-fiancé, Diana Woodburn was glad to accept the interim post of Herbology professor at Hogwarts. From the safety within, she can begin to unravel the dark secrets she's heard whispers of, and maybe stop You-Know-Who's supporters from rising again. But when her path crosses Severus Snape's once more, she can't tell whose side he's on... [Snape/OC]
1. The New Herbology Professor

"I don't like it, Albus."

Professor Albus Dumbledore didn't look up from the parchment he was writing on. His deputy headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, had been talking to him about the same subject for the past hour. "I know that, Minerva," he said mildly. "But I have made my decision."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "But Diana Woodburn?" she asked. "You know what she was like when she was at school. Haughty, proud… even downright nasty at times. She used her prefect status to her advantage."

Professor Dumbledore said nothing. He merely continued to let his quill scratch along the scroll in front of him, carefully writing in a neat, slanting script. Apparently irritated at his lack of response, Professor McGonagall tried again.

"For heaven's sake, Albus, she's engaged to be married into the Carter line." She lowered her voice somewhat as she added, "And I don't think I need to remind you that both the Woodburns and the Carters were avid supporters of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Professor Dumbledore glanced up at her. "Actually, Miss Woodburn is no longer engaged to Mr. William Carter."

The older woman's thin eyebrows rose a fraction. "Is that so? What happened there? Their families arranged that match while they were still at Hogwarts."

The headmaster seemed not to have heard her question. He said only, "She will be a fine addition to the school."

The deputy headmistress let out a displeased _hmmph_ and sank into one of the squashy chairs in front of Professor Dumbledore's desk. "She was good at Herbology," she admitted. "Very good, in fact. And I know that we're desperate to find a new teacher for the subject, what with Professor Sprout's illness coming on so suddenly." She leaned forward. "But surely there's a more appropriate choice?"

"I trust her, Minerva. That should be good enough for you, and for the rest of the staff."

"Yes, like you trust Severus, no doubt," Professor McGonagall said, rolling her eyes in a fashion that was very unlike her. "You seem so keen on filling our ranks with Dark witches and wizards, Albus, and yet you claim that You-Know-Who isn't –"

He eyed her from behind his golden half-moon spectacles. "Voldemort, Minerva. Call him by his name."

Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared. "You claim _he_ isn't gone for good," she said tightly, ignoring the name altogether. "All of these decisions of yours… they might come back to haunt you."

Professor Dumbledore laid down his quill and tapped the bottom of the scroll with his wand. The scroll rolled up obediently, sealing itself without a seam or wrinkle. "I'll remember that," he said, not unkindly. "For the time being, Miss Woodburn will teach at Hogwarts."

The deputy headmistress opened her mouth, not yet ready to give up the ghost. At that moment, however, there was a knock on the door of the headmaster's study. The two looked at each other for a moment, like they were daring each other to speak. "Come in," Professor Dumbledore said at last. The door to his study creaked open.

Diana Woodburn was framed in the entrance, looking slightly unsure of herself. Professor McGonagall was surprised – this wasn't an expression she'd ever seen on the young woman's face, not in all seven years she had taught her in Transfiguration class. Professor Dumbledore beckoned her inside the tower room, and she closed the door behind her before entering.

The three years since Diana had been a student at Hogwarts had changed her somehow. She was still uncannily beautiful, her long dark hair tied in a loose bun at the nape of her neck and her light eyes, framed with thick lashes, fixed steadily on the two professors. Freckles sprinkled her pale skin like constellations above the neck of her dark robes.

But when Professor McGonagall looked closely, she was stunned. There was evidence of a black eye around her right eye, the bruise just shy of being completely faded. A thin scar ran from her left temple to the bridge of her nose, only just visible in the flickering torchlight. And the look in her blue eyes was hunted, frightened. There was none of the confidence, none of the arrogance that had announced her presence at Hogwarts. This version of Diana Woodburn looked like she would be scared of a Summoning Charm.

"Miss Woodburn," Professor Dumbledore said, smiling at the young woman gently. "It's a pleasure to see you again. I trust you are well?"

"Quite well, Professor, thank you," she said softly. Diana folded her hands in front of her and glanced at Professor McGonagall. "It's good to be back at Hogwarts."

The deputy headmistress sniffed. "I'll leave you to your business," she told the headmaster. With another careful look at Diana, Professor McGonagall left the office. But as she closed the door behind her, an unpleasant feeling churned in the pit of her stomach. What had happened to the girl?

Professor Dumbledore smiled again as soon as the other woman had left. "Please have a seat," he said, motioning to one of the chairs in front of his desk. She did so, perching on the very edge of the cushion as the headmaster passed the sealed scroll to her. "The details of your salary and teaching duties are enclosed within there. You will also be acting as the interim Head of House for Hufflepuff in Professor Sprout's absence, Miss Woodburn, and that will require attending a few meetings each term. But we've already spoken about the curriculum, of course. There should be no surprises."

"Yes, sir."

"Please let me know if you have any questions. And welcome back to Hogwarts, Miss Woodburn. We're very pleased you've accepted the role of Herbology professor this year."

"Thank you, sir." Diana traced the edge of the scroll with her finger.

Professor Dumbledore steepled his fingers and studied her intently. Silence oozed out across the tower's stone walls, punctuated only by the soft hisses and clicks of the spindly silver instruments scattered around the headmaster's office.

"Is there anything you wish to ask me, Miss Woodburn?" Professor Dumbledore asked at last.

Diana raised her gaze to meet his. She sucked in a deep breath. "Yes," she said in a rush. "I just… can you assure my safety here?"

Professor Dumbledore frowned slightly. "Of course you are safe here. There is hardly a safer place in the world than Hogwarts."

Diana leaned forward. "Professor, I think you know about my engagement," she said, speaking so quietly it was almost a whisper. At the headmaster's nod, she swallowed hard and continued. "My family are furious that I broke it off, and so is William. They don't know I'm here. At least, I don't think they do. But I do know that they're going to be looking for me."

Professor Dumbledore watched as Diana gently touched the bruised skin around her eye with the tips of her fingers. "Miss Woodburn," he said gravely. "I can assure you that I will not tell a soul."

She nodded. "Thank you, sir. But William's younger cousin still attends Hogwarts. I'm afraid…" She trailed off, her porcelain skin going even paler.

"Ah, yes. Hugh Carter." Dumbledore's lips thinned. "We will watch him closely, Miss Woodburn. As long as you are within the walls of Hogwarts, no one will be able to touch you. Not a soul will gain entry unless I've said so. I promise you that."

She seemed to collapse into the chair. "All right," she said. "Thank you, sir." Diana rose from the chair, clutching the scroll to her chest.

Professor Dumbledore's gaze softened. "Hogwarts will always be there to offer sanctuary for its students, Miss Woodburn. Even after they have long since left its doors. I am glad that we could help you through a difficult situation."

For the first time since she'd entered the office, a genuine smile passed across the young woman's lips. "I truly appreciate it, sir."

He returned the smile and rose from behind his desk. "As you know, term begins in a week. Until then, you have full run of the castle and grounds. You may begin preparing your lessons." He waved an arm at the door leading out of his study. "Your quarters are near the Hufflepuff common room, beside the kitchens. The door is behind the portrait of a cheese and wine spread, beside the painting of a fruit bowl."

Diana blinked. "Really?"

His blue eyes twinkled. "Yes. The password is 'swan song.' You will be able to change the password at your leisure. If you have any questions or concerns about your quarters, you may of course let me know at once."

Professor Dumbledore watched the girl go, amused at her befuddlement over his instructions. But as her footsteps echoed down the gargoyle staircase beyond his door, his amusement faded. The headmaster sank into the chair behind his desk, studying the opposite wall without truly seeing it.

Diana Woodburn would be safe at Hogwarts; he had given his word, and he would make sure it was true. But William Carter had always been an exceptionally clever, cunning young man. Both his family and the Woodburns had powerfully Dark connections, too – Professor McGonagall had been right about that. If Diana's ex-fiancé was really as angry as she had said, he had no doubts that he would try and get at her, no matter what it cost him.

The headmaster only hoped he could keep Diana within Hogwarts's walls. No one could get inside, even if they had found out she was there. But if she stepped beyond those walls, he couldn't promise that he could keep her safe. And if the faint remnants of her injuries were any indication, great danger lurked out there for her.


	2. A Familiar Face

It felt strange to be back in the halls of Hogwarts.

After Diana had graduated, she never thought she'd be returning – and at the time, she'd been happy about that. It seemed like much longer than three years since she'd been a student here, but the path down to the dungeons was as familiar as if she'd walked it only yesterday. The school even smelled the same: damp stone, musty carpet, and the faint scent of baking bread wafted up from the stairwell as she made her way down toward the kitchens, the Hufflepuff and Slytherin common rooms, and her new living quarters.

Apprehension twisted her stomach. She didn't know the first thing about being a professor. She had plunged headlong into this foolish venture, desperate for a way out of William's controlling grip. She'd been as shocked as anyone would be when Professor Dumbledore had responded to her application saying he'd welcome the opportunity to hire her in Professor Sprout's absence.

Only a week ago, she'd been at the Carter estate in Devon listening to William's mother endlessly debate about whether or not to use baby's breath in her bridal bouquet. She'd been taking walks along the coast with her future father-in-law while he lectured her about the duties of a proper pureblood wife and – someday, Merlin willing – mother. She'd been attending galas and society functions with her fiancé, steered about by the iron grip of his fingers around her waist, those fingers squeezing her skin painfully when she said something without being asked for her opinion.

Diana stopped halfway down the corridor and laid her forehead against the cool stone, letting its chill seep into her skin. Her breath still felt tight in her chest. What was she doing? Maybe she should go home. Maybe she was exaggerating how bad things had been.

But the tender, bruised skin around her eye gave a throb at that moment. Like her brain was trying to remind her just _how_ bad it had been.

William had been drunk again; that wasn't the shocking part. He had come home reeking of the spicy, boozy scent of firewhisky, and she had pretended she hadn't noticed. He had slid between the sheets of the bed they shared without taking off his clothes, and his hot lips had instantly found her neck. _Did you cast your Contraceptive Charm?_ he had murmured in a deep, throaty voice that had once made her tingle. Not anymore.

 _Not tonight_ , she had murmured, trying to step carefully around this subject. It was like trying to walk on dragon's eggshells. _Please, honey, I'm tired._

His lips had moved against her skin. _I thought about you all night. Everyone was asking where you were._

Diana had tried to wriggle away from him, but his grip was too strong, too tight around her waist. _What did you tell them?_ she had said, already knowing her tone wasn't as light as it should have been.

His teeth had grazed her ear. The scent of alcohol made her want to vomit. _I told them you were at home. They asked me if you were fucking another man in my bed._ His fingers trailed down her stomach, slipped beneath the hem of the too-short nightgown he had selected for her months ago. _Come on, love. Prove that wasn't true._

 _You know it wasn't true_ , she'd said. Diana thought now that maybe it was the snap in her tone that had done it, or maybe the way she'd dug her fingernails into his hand, trying to pry him off her. William's slurred, honeyed speech suddenly went clear, cold, deadly.

 _You're a whore, Diana,_ he'd said. _Bet you were fucking someone else._ He had knotted his fingers in her hair, yanking her head back so that she felt the tendons in her neck straining. One arm still twined around her waist, pinning her to him, pressing her back into him. She shrank away as he rose up on one elbow to get a better look at her. _After all I've fucking done for you?_

 _I didn't!_ she had cried, squirming to get away. _William, please, I just don't want –_

Then he had slammed her head into the bedside table. Her eye had been driven straight into the marble corner, and she had screamed. William had clamped his hand over her mouth, fingernails digging into the tender skin of her jaw. When he had kissed her neck a second time as she pressed her palm against her throbbing head, she'd let him do whatever he wanted. She never made the mistake of standing up to him a second time.

By the time the bruise had bloomed the next morning, turning her eye black, William hadn't remembered a thing from the night before. She'd told him she'd fallen when she'd gotten up to use the bathroom. He'd believed her. He always did. Neither of his parents said anything about it at breakfast, or about hearing her scream the night before, though they must have. William was perfect in their eyes, with his perfect little job, perfect little trust fund, perfect little fiancée.

Diana couldn't remember the last time she'd made a decision for herself. She was his accessory, as much as the wand he carried or the watch on his wrist. She had written to Professor Dumbledore as soon as he'd left for the Ministry that morning. She'd had her response that night. Three days later, she had left her engagement ring on the dresser and had Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron.

Now, standing in the dungeon corridor, Diana pressed the bruise around her eye gently. It was nearly gone, thank goodness. Neither Professor Dumbledore nor Professor McGonagall had said anything about it. She was grateful for that.

Footsteps suddenly jerked her out of her reverie. Diana spun on her heel as a figure emerged at the end of the corridor. The figure moved beneath a torch, casting orange light upon his face, and Diana gasped. The man raised his head.

"What are you doing here?" spat Severus Snape.

Diana could only gape. She hadn't seen him since the Dark Lord had been vanquished, but she would have known him anywhere. She had seen him dozens of times at the covert meetings at Edgecroft, the Carter estate, and at functions at Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire. He had been in William's year at school, one year above hers.

But what was he doing here?

Severus's face was twisted in anger as he covered the space between them in three long strides. He towered over her as he came to stand mere inches from her – had he always been that tall? "Who let you in this castle?" he hissed, words slipping between his teeth like silk.

Diana jutted her chin out and met his gaze fiercely. "Seeing as I'm the new Herbology professor here, and have every right to be in this corridor, I think I should be asking _you_ those questions."

"New professor?" Severus spat. "Diana Woodburn is our new Herbology professor?" His eyes flicked down to the fourth finger of her left hand. "Or is it Diana Carter now? Where's your darling, handsome husband?"

"Professor Woodburn will do," she snapped. She folded her arms protectively over her chest.

His mouth curled into a sneer as understanding flicked across his face. "Ah. Pity. You were quite the king and queen of the school here, if I recall." His ink-dark eyes narrowed. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will be interested to know what sort of Dark witch he's let into his castle."

Diana ground her teeth together so hard her jaw ached. "I could say the same about you."

He laughed, and the sound made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. "Professor Dumbledore trusts me endlessly," he said. "He has trusted me for five years to be the potions master at this school, as well as Head of Slytherin House."

It was Diana's turn to sneer. "I suppose we all place our trust in the wrong people now and again."

Severus stepped, if possible, even closer. The look in his eyes made Diana's mind flick back to William, and she flinched without meaning to. "My loyalties are none of your concern. That is a matter between the headmaster and myself." He braced one hand on the stone wall beside her head. "William Carter, on the other hand, still consorts with the same crowd, if the rumors are true."

Diana tried to appear brave. "I am not William Carter. Nor am I his fiancée any longer."

Severus gave her a long look before he stepped back at last. "That may be true. But all the same, I'll be watching you, Miss Woodburn," he said softly. "I know what was spoken about in those meetings at Edgecroft. I know the plans they had for Hogwarts."

"So do I," she challenged. "And believe me. I'll be watching you, too."

He gave her a final scoff before walking away, moving in the direction of the stairs leading back to the main floor. Only when the echo of his footsteps had faded did Diana allow herself to breathe again, sagging against the stone wall of the corridor.

This was not what she had planned. Hogwarts was supposed to be an escape from William, from that whole dark part of her life. She had come to escape, and to undermine the very few Death Eaters that remained outside the walls of Azkaban from within.

But she had not planned on having Severus Snape so close at hand. He had said that Professor Dumbledore trusted him… but whose side was he really on?

Diana's head ached as she followed the corridor to the painting the headmaster had told her to look for: a cutting board stacked with cheese beside two crystal pitchers of wine. She could hear laughter and music tinkling from an unseen party beyond the painting's table.

"Swan song," she announced to the painting's gilt frame, feeling a little stupid. For a moment, nothing happened. Suddenly, one of the cheese wheels swung outward, and behind it, Diana glimpsed a door handle. She let herself into the hidden room.

The Head of Hufflepuff's quarters were nothing like the Slytherin dormitory Diana had grown used to after several years. The walls of the large single room were round, hung with drapes in every shade of yellow and gold and tied with black ribbons – all the Hufflepuff colors. A squashy bed laid with a goldenrod down comforter stood along the back wall, along with Diana's trunk, its lid already propped open invitingly. A small loveseat and an armchair stood in front of a wizarding wireless, along with a desk made from honey-colored wood and set with a few bright candles.

The room even had a small kitchen space, in case Diana wanted to whip up something after hours. She smiled a bit; apparently being a professor had its perks, and sneaking into the kitchen after meals wasn't forbidden.

Part of her felt like collapsing onto the bed and sleeping until the first day of term, but she knew she couldn't do that. Instead, Diana crossed to the trunk and began unpacking her clothes into the wardrobe, and her books onto the shelves under the wireless. At the bottom of the trunk, her fingers hovered. A few pieces of parchment had been tucked under her dress robes.

She didn't have to open them to know what they were. Letters – from her parents, from William's parents, from William himself. Furious letters: _Come home at once. Disgrace to both Woodburn and Carter name. Fucking whore._

Diana shoved the letters to the side, crinkling one of them, and took a scroll from the back corner of her trunk. Slumping to the floor in an undignified sprawl, she unrolled it carefully. Her own handwriting stared back up at her from the parchment, close and hurried.

Everything she could remember about the Edgecroft meetings, scribbled before she had fled the mansion. It was all here.

The chance to take sanctuary at Hogwarts hadn't just been because of the castle's thick walls and high towers, though that had appealed to Diana more than she could put into words. It had also been the perfect way to get revenge on the man she had once dreamed of marrying, the man who had turned into one of her most devilish nightmares.

For years, the Dark Lord's former supporters, the ones who had managed to escape the narrow Azkaban cells, had met in secret at the Carter family home. They had plotted and planned, drank and cursed and laughed about cruel things.

Diana had known about these meetings the entire length of her relationship with William, and for the whole of their engagement – but truthfully, she had never cared until she was desperate to leave. Diana's own parents were tight with the Dark Lord's supporters, and were had gotten wealthy off the connections they had made through their ideas of pureblood elitism. She had found that making the same connections with her Slytherin friends, whose parents were Death Eaters, meant that she got what she wanted. She didn't believe in the Dark Lord or his cause as much as she enjoyed reaping the social and financial benefits.

She had been naive. Foolish. Too stupid and too privileged to care about it. Besides, William Carter was universally agreed upon as the best-looking boy in the year. Who wouldn't get punch-drunk just being on his arm, kissing him in dark corners, going even further with him in broom closets?

But that was before the drinking. Before the bruises she had to explain away with invented clumsiness. Only a few months after she and William had become engaged, she had started to write it all down. Every nasty thing they had ever said in those wretched Edgecroft meetings, she had documented on the scroll she now held in her hands. She had dreamed of eventually blackmail the whole lot of them – her family, the Carters, everyone– with their secrets and lies. For once, for the first time ever, she would have power over _them_.

She wanted revenge on her parents, for forcing her into their own vision of her future. On the Carters, for shaping it just as much, never asking what she wanted. On William, for making that future hell.

But in the past few months, a plan had begun to take shape in the Edgecroft meetings. They were no longer firewhisky-fueled talks and dreams and reminiscences. As they began to seriously take action, to formulate a plan for winning back power, her own vision of vengeance had shifted into something much bigger – and just as before, Diana had taken down every word.

 _There is a secret room somewhere?_ she had scribbled near the bottom of the parchment. Some of the ink blotted and smeared from haste. She had remembered the panicked feeling as she'd written these words, wondering if she would be caught in the middle of her betrayal. _No one knows where – only that it contains Dark artifacts. Hugely powerful. Maybe powerful enough to bring him back?_

And then, below that, the only concrete clue she had to go on: _The key lies in black._

"The key lies in black," Diana whispered aloud, drinking in the words like sweet elixir.

This was better than blackmail, better than disappearing off the face of the earth. From within Hogwarts, she was safe – but she was also in a position to find the key, and unlock the secrets of the hidden Dark artifact room. And then she would destroy every single damn thing in it, so that William, her family, and the rest of the Dark Lord's rabid followers – including Severus Snape, Hogwarts potions master and world's most nosy git – would never be able to return to what they once were.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks so much for all of the reads, reviews, favorites, and follows so far! I'm thrilled to know that this story has garnered interest. Always feel free to let me know what you think. I love hearing from readers! Hope you continue to enjoy!**


	3. Hugh's Threat

As it turned out, preparing for the upcoming term took up so much of Diana's time over the next week that she didn't have a free minute to even think about the cryptic notes she'd copied from the Edgecroft meetings. From sunup to sundown, she locked herself away in one of the greenhouses on the castle grounds, tending to the plants Professor Sprout had placed in her care or poring over the curriculum Professor Dumbledore had left for her. Her robes were constantly sprinkled with potting soil, and she had the suspicion she smelled like dragon dung fertilizer more often than she didn't.

But a miraculous thing began to happen: somewhere among the leaves and the vines, between the plants that tried to snap at her with thorny teeth or wrap their snakelike tendrils around her ankles, she started to feel truly happy again for the first time in years.

The only uncomfortable thing about her new position was the staff meals, eaten on the raised dais at the head of the Great Hall. Diana still felt young, like she should be sitting at the empty Slytherin House table and not between Professor Flitwick and Hagrid, the school's groundskeeper. What was worse, every time she joined the staff in the hall, she could feel the glances being thrown her way from Severus – it was difficult for her to think of him as Professor Snape – at the far end of the table. She knew he was suspicious of her reasons for being there, and didn't trust her when she spoke out against William.

Well, he could do whatever he liked, as far as she was concerned. For all _she_ knew, he was doing exactly what he suspected her of: working from within Hogwarts to bring the Dark Lord back. Diana knew he had been at many of those Edgecroft meetings, and remembered the fantastical pureblood mentalities he'd carried with him at school. For every spare glance he gave her, she returned it double.

Diana was almost sad when September first rolled around, knowing she would lose the warm, green-scented solitude of the greenhouses. But a tiny part of her was excited to teach. She had excelled at Herbology when she was at Hogwarts, and was looking forward to sharing that with the students who came her way.

She shifted from foot to foot beneath one of the enchanted lanterns lining the path up from the school gates. She could just see the first of the horseless carriages arriving from Hogsmeade station, carrying the students from the train to the school – except the first years, of course, who would be arriving in boats. Diana and Professor Flitwick had been assigned to watch the courtyard in front of the castle to make sure none of the students dawdled before heading to the start-of-term feast.

"Here they come!" the tiny professor chirped. He was perched on a stump so he'd be able to see over the crowds. One by one, the carriages unloaded students in fresh school robes, chattering and calling to one another. Their voices seemed to carry straight up to the silver stars peppering the deep blue night sky.

"Single file, please!" Diana called over the buzz of excitement. She tried to remember the words she'd heard shouted at her on school arrival nights. "Straight inside and take a seat at your House tables! No dawdling!"

Professor Flitwick tipped her a wink across the milling heads as they slowly trickled into the entrance hall. She flushed, absurdly pleased. Maybe she could do this after all.

But as soon as the thought entered her mind, a pair of boys shifted in front of her. Behind them, she caught sight of a familiar head of blonde hair. A familiar strong jaw. Familiar brown eyes, narrowed and searching.

Diana gasped and took a step back, ducking into the shadows beyond the lantern. Her heart pummeled against her ribs, and her stomach wrenched so hard bile rose in the back of her throat. Panic made bright white light wink at the edges of her vision.

How had he found her? How had he gotten onto the school grounds? Hide. She had to hide right now –

He saw her. He was coming this way. Golden torchlight shimmered over the handsome planes of his face – and Diana let out a breath.

It wasn't William. Hugh Carter, his cousin, approached her across the courtyard. The other students parted for him like he was a boat through water.

Her relief was short lived. It might not have been William, but Hugh couldn't be good news, either.

"Well, well," he said, coming to a stop in front of her. One corner of his thin mouth twisted upwards in sarcastic amusement. "So here you are."

Diana swallowed hard. "Hello, Hugh." Her voice came out as a whisper.

"Hello, Diana." He took another step closer. He was almost as tall as William, and that fact, coupled with his striking similarity to Diana's ex-fiancé, made her blood pound so hard that she felt dizzy. Instinct told her to shield her face, to protect herself from the inevitable blows.

"I heard you might be here," he said in a low voice, low enough for only the two of them to hear in the din of excited student chatter.

Breath fled from her. "How did you hear that?" she choked.

"Our family has ears in every nook and cranny of wizarding Britain, my dear."

"I'm not your dear," Diana snapped. Hugh's eyebrows flew up, and he barked out a laugh that didn't have a drop of humor in it.

"No, you're not, are you? You're supposed to be William's bride." He leaned forward, so that his eyes were shadowed. Ice trickled down her spine. "He's not very happy you've embarrassed him, by the way. I've never seen him this angry." He gave Diana a measured look, so that the truth behind his statement could sink in: _All the times he's been angry before are nothing compared to this._

"He's looking for you," Hugh added. "And he intends to find you."

She lifted her chin in a show of confidence she didn't feel. "You'd do well to mind your place, Mr. Carter. You are still a student at this school, and you're speaking rather rudely to a professor."

Hugh's smirk grew. "You're a professor here?" He grinned, white teeth gleaming in the lamplight. "Now _that_ I didn't know. What subject? Muggle Studies? Don't tell me you're a Mudblood lover now."

She ignored that jibe, though something in her recoiled at the slur, like it was a slap. "You're not going to tell anyone," Diana said coldly. "You know exactly why I left, Hugh. I'm not coming back."

His dark eyes flicked briefly to the skin around her own eye, the bruise around it now totally gone. Yes, he did know why she had left. And he didn't care. "Oh, aren't you?" he murmured. "I'll see about that."

A shadow fell over the pair of them just then. Diana stumbled back, like a terrifying spell William's cousin had placed over her had at last fallen away. Severus came to a stop between them, half-shielding her from the youngest Carter. He didn't look at her; his eyes were fixed on Hugh, his mouth turned down in a scowl.

"Mr. Carter," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "Is there a reason you're still out here, bothering the staff, instead of seated at the Slytherin table where you belong?"

Hugh's eyes found Diana over Severus's shoulder. The potions master moved to the side, hiding her from his view again. "Just catching up," Hugh said, and then added begrudgingly, "Professor."

"Inside, Carter," Severus said, his voice emotionless. "Unless you'd like to start the Slytherin House point count with a deficit." Hugh glared at the potions master, and for a moment, Diana thought he was going to challenge the command. At last, though, he just flicked his eyes over Diana from head to toe, smirked a final time, and disappeared into the entrance hall.

Diana only felt she could breathe again when she lost sight of him. Severus's back was still to her. "Thank you," she said in a low voice. At first, she didn't think he'd heard her.

"It's Professor Dumbledore's orders to keep distance between you and Carter," he finally responded, still not looking at her. "His reasons were unclear, of course." Severus turned slightly, glancing at her over his shoulder. "As are his reasons for hiring you."

She rolled her eyes. "If you're going to be a git, I won't waste breath on thanking you."

Severus's upper lip curled, and he turned fully to face her now. "You broke your engagement and came to this school at the eleventh hour. You're protected against the Carter family under the headmaster's orders. You're full of secrets, Professor Woodburn. And I'm not sure I like that."

Diana gritted her teeth. "I feel the same, Professor Snape."

"If you told me the truth, I wouldn't have any reason to be cautious of you."

She laughed hollowly. "I won't even tell you what I ate for breakfast until I can be sure of where your loyalties lie."

Something dark and furious flickered across his face for the space between blinks – there one instant, gone the next. Severus turned on his heel and strode off toward the entrance hall, the black of his cloak rippling over the dark grass like liquid. Diana watched him go with an uneasy feeling churning in her stomach, one that had nothing to do with the unpleasant threats Hugh had made.

Guilt trickled through her, even though she didn't want it to. Maybe she hadn't been right in questioning is loyalties. It seemed to have struck a nerve in him – and he _had_ defended her from Hugh, even without knowing the truth about William and her desperation to take the job at Hogwarts.

Diana figured she might owe him an apology. And that irritated her, because a man like Severus Snape seemed like he would take a mile if you gave him an inch. But despite his motives, he had still come to her rescue. She appreciated him for that.

By the time the last of the students had trickled in from the carriages, and the first years had disembarked from their rowboats and were clustered in the entrance hall, Diana found that she couldn't concentrate on the night's excitement. She couldn't focus on the Sorting, Professor Dumbledore's words of welcome, or the appearance of start-of-term feast. Everything passed like a gold-and-sapphire blur of floating candles and sparkling, enchanted stars.

She kept looking at Severus throughout courses of roast beef, fried potatoes, and rhubarb crumble. He was always engrossed in conversations or studying his plate when her eyes found him. But for whatever reason, her gaze seemed drawn to his profile as she chatted idly with Professor Kettleburn about the merits of having students hatch diricawl eggs. Why had he reacted so strongly to her words? And why was he also a professor here, when he was possibly the last person she would have thought of as a teacher?

When the meal was finished at last, Professor Dumbledore stepped up to the podium at the front of the dais. The hum of voices and clinking of cutlery gradually died down. Automatically, Diana glanced at Severus again – and this time she was startled to find he was looking back at her. He ducked his head, color creeping into his cheeks, and something fuzzy trickled through her.

"As before, I must welcome you all back to Hogwarts for another year," said the headmaster, smiling at the crowd assembled under the enchanted night sky. "The usual start-of-term announcements are as follows. First, of course, the corridor on the third floor is out of bounds…"

Her mind wandered again. Diana's eyes sought the cluster of seventh-year students at the far end of the green and silver Slytherin table. Hugh was looking at her. Her insides burned, but Diana held his gaze as he grinned nastily at her.

"... and an event that has never been held at Hogwarts before," the headmaster was saying. Suddenly, Diana was listening again. Though she couldn't see his face, she could hear the smile in Professor Dumbledore's voice as he said, "This year, I am delighted to announce that a ball will be held for all students and faculty who will be at the castle during the Christmas holidays."

Delighted gasps rose up from the girls at the long tables, underscored by groans from most of the boys. Diana was embarrassed at the excitement that surged through her, as though she were a fifteen-year-old student again and not a twenty-two-year-old professor.

But a school dance! She'd grown up with her nose buried in her mother's old romance novels, all about beautiful witches who traveled danced with handsome masked men who battled dragons and broke curses when they weren't seducing women. She had once imagined being married to William would be like living in one of those romance novels.

Diana could remember the naive dreams she'd dreamed, lying away on her bed in her dormitory, dances and parties and stolen kisses. And while they'd been at school, he had been that sort charming gentleman, leaving Fizzing Whizbees in her book bag and kissing her senseless underneath an arch in the clock tower courtyard. But the only dances they'd been to in the years since had been cold, formal charity balls and functions, where the only important things were to be seen and quietly brag about how many Galleons you had given to St. Mungo's. Diana had long since stopped daydreaming about William. It was hard to dream about the same man who'd once slammed you into a china cabinet, who called you _bitch_ and _whore_ for laughing at another man's joke.

Her excitement ebbed as Professor Dumbledore began to wrap up his announcements. A Christmas ball wasn't going to be romantic – not for her. Better to hide away among Flutterby Bushes and Fanged Geraniums.

A sudden chorus of scraping wood on stone made her jump. The students had been dismissed to their dormitories for the night. Diana rose from her place at the staff table. She should take Severus aside now and apologize for her rudeness, while she still had the mind to do it. If they were going to be working together, being civil was the right thing to do.

But he saw her coming before she could reach him. Slippery as a shadow, Severus descended from the dais, cutting through the crowd of students and disappearing through the great double doors back into the entrance hall.

Diana was left standing by the staff table, feeling puzzled by his sudden departure. As she slowly descended the steps herself and began to herd students toward their common rooms, even the prospect of tomorrow's Herbology lessons and the Christmastime ball couldn't keep a faint feeling of disappointment from gnawing at her insides.


End file.
